How NOT To Get To A Blogging Meet-Up

Last night I went to a bloggers meet-up and met some of the Perth bloggers I have long admired. I met some I'd only come across recently and I met a few who I'm planning to cyber-stalk until the end of time. In a good way! You'd think that would be the most exciting, pulse-racing, can't-quite-catch-my-breath part of the night wouldn't you? But no. For me (and I apologise for borrowing this phrase from every reality tv show every) it was all about the journey.

You know I have no sense of direction, right? That I get lost? A lot? It doesn't even matter if I know where I'm going. Chances are I'm still going to take a wrong turn, miss a set of traffic lights or just plain stuff up the directions somewhere along the way. Yes I have a GPS. No it doesn't always help. It generally just means I get a little bit less lost than I might do otherwise.

So I started out with my highest boots on, dressed up for a night out at a bar. I don't even remember the last time I went to a bar. I was ready to meet and greet, schmooze and move, influence and be influenced. Oh okay, I was bloody nervous but I had great boots and lots of makeup on so I figured I'd wing it and and hope it turned out okay. Anyway, as I left Hubby asked if I wanted the GPS in my car. I looked at him with airy unconcern, assured him I knew where I was going and declined his kind offer. First mistake.

I tootled off, music blaring and fingers tapping on the steering wheel. I congratulated my speed-demon self when I passed a police speed camera actually doing the 70kph that was the speed limit. And then drove straight through a set of traffic lights that I should have hung a left at. Second mistake.

It took me another 15 or so minutes to work that mistake out. Third mistake.

But all was not lost. I knew where I could hang another left and get myself back on track. Sure it'd put me a little behind schedule but that was okay. I knew where I was, I knew where I was going and I knew how to get there. Right? Um.... no. And that'd be the fourth mistake. And the seventh mistake too.

But I hit the tunnel under the city (sort of, it's kind of next to it but you get my point) and watched the signs carefully so I didn't miss my exit. Then I missed my exit. Fifth mistake. And ended up on the freeway on the other side of the city. Sixth mistake. Telling myself not to panic I executed a very nice manoeuvre whereby I swung across five (yes five!) lanes of traffic and grabbed the first exit I could find. All okay except for the whole not knowing where the hell I was. There may have been a lot of swearing in the car right about then. To be honest, there probably was. But I didn't panic. I figured I was only just on the other side of the city and if I followed the road I was on I'd hit a set of traffic lights that would probably be a fairly major road and, with any luck, I'd recognise the road name and work out where I was. Finally something went my way. I did hit a set of traffic lights. I did recognise the name and I did turn the right way to get me back where I needed to be. Then I hit another road I recognised, not too far from where I was heading, and by an absolute fluke took the right turn again. Totally accidentally! Yay me!!

With a very big sigh of relief I tootled across to where I thought I needed to be. Yeah. Thought. But of course that wasn't where the bar was at all. People, I do believe we're up to mistake number seven. The one I referred to earlier. Again with the 'don't panic' self-talk I found a side street with some parking and called Hubby. Who laughed. And then looked up the real address. And told me how to get there.

Righto. Start again. Missed a road I needed and ended up in a totally different suburb. Again. Mistake number eight. On the bright side, at this point I knew where I was, I really did know where I was going and finally I knew how to get there.

Fast forward all of about 10 minutes and wa-lah! I was finally there. An hour and a half  after I started out. But there none-the-less. The trip home was somewhat less torturous though there is a distinct possibility that I may have taken one wrong turn. But that one was easily fixed and that journey took me decidedly less time than the one I'd undertaken earlier in the evening!